Opening: INT. KIDNAPPER'S LAIR - NIGHT
The sound of dripping water echoes through the cavernous, metallic space—plink, plink, plink—sharp, incessant, and maddening. Darkness presses in from every corner, broken only by the sickly, flickering light of a single bulb swinging above. It casts twisted, grotesque shadows that dance on the stained concrete walls.
The room smells of rot and decay, a sickening mix of blood, sweat, and something far worse—a metallic stench that clings to the air like death itself. Chains hang from the ceiling, swaying gently, as if waiting for something or someone.
On the floor, crumpled like discarded bodies, lie three women—unconscious, bound, and gagged. Their wrists are tied with thick, coarse rope, leaving red, raw welts in its wake. They're dressed in costumes that mock the characters they once played—cheap imitations of their online personas, now twisted into grim parodies.
The first to stir is Jess. A low groan escapes her lips as her eyelids flutter open. Her head pounds like a fucking sledgehammer is driving spikes into her brain. She tries to lift her hand to her face, but the ropes yank her back. Panic floods her veins, her breath hitching as she looks around the room, realizing she's not alone.
The others are still out cold—Lucy, her long pink hair matted against her cheek, looks like a broken doll, and Emma, tough as nails, looks disturbingly fragile as she lies motionless on the dirty floor. Jess's heart races as she struggles against the restraints, the ropes biting into her flesh.
JESS
(whispering, hoarse)
"Fuck… what the hell…"
Her voice is barely audible, cracking from fear and the cold, dry air. She pulls harder against the ropes, her muscles straining, her breaths coming fast and shallow. The dim light above flickers, casting sinister shadows that make the room feel like it's closing in on her. Panic tightens her throat as she hears a sound—footsteps, slow and deliberate, coming from behind her.
Suddenly, Lucy jerks awake, gasping as she looks down at her body, her wide eyes landing on the ridiculous fucking costume she's been forced into. It's a cruel mockery of her gaming persona—a skimpy, skin-tight bodysuit that clings uncomfortably to her skin. She yanks at the ropes, her hands trembling.
LUCY
(breathless)
"Where… where the fuck are we?"
Her voice cracks, echoing off the walls as her eyes dart around the dimly lit hellhole. Jess locks eyes with her, shaking her head slightly, trying to keep her calm.
Before they can make sense of the situation, Emma wakes with a violent jerk, her survival instincts kicking in immediately. She thrashes against the ropes, her body twisting in fury as her eyes blaze with anger.
EMMA
(gritting her teeth)
"What the fuck is going on?!"
Jess tries to shush her, but Emma's already too far gone, yanking and pulling at the restraints like a rabid animal.
Suddenly, the lights flicker again. This time, they stay off for several seconds—long enough for the girls to freeze, their breath caught in their throats. When they flicker back on, a low, grinding sound fills the room.
A door—rusted, heavy, and ominous—creaks open on the far side of the lair. The screech of metal against metal is deafening, and with it, the girls' fear spikes into full-blown terror.
From behind the door, a shadow emerges—just a glimpse, nothing more, but enough to send a shiver down Jess's spine. The figure doesn't come into full view, but they can feel its presence like a predator stalking its prey.
Then, the voice comes. Cold. Calculated. And dripping with malice. It crackles through a speaker hidden somewhere in the room, distorted and metallic, like something straight out of a horror game.
DISTORTED VOICE
(chuckling darkly)
"Look who's awake. Welcome to my game, ladies. I've been waiting."
Emma freezes, her heart pounding in her chest. Lucy begins to hyperventilate, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she looks at Jess, her voice trembling.
LUCY
(fearful)
"What the fuck… what does he mean, 'game'? We're… we're not in some game, right?"
The voice chuckles again, low and sinister, the sound sending a cold rush of fear down their spines.
DISTORTED VOICE
"Not just any game. My game. You three had a lot to say about my work, didn't you? Didn't think I was paying attention. But I was. Oh… I was. And now, you'll get to play for real."
A screen flickers to life on the far wall, revealing a grainy, distorted image of their captor—a man whose face is obscured by shadows and static. His eyes gleam behind the distortion, and his smile is that of a predator about to devour its prey.
EMMA
(snapping)
"Fuck you! Let us go, you sick piece of shit!"
But the voice only laughs—deep and guttural, like it's savoring every moment of their terror.
DISTORTED VOICE
(voice lowering)
"You don't understand yet, do you? You're not going anywhere. This room? It's just the beginning. You'll wish you could leave, but by the time I'm done… you'll beg for the end."
The screen flickers again, and the camera shifts—showing them their surroundings from every angle. They realize there are cameras everywhere, watching their every move, every breath, every futile struggle.
LUCY
(sobbing)
"We're fucking trapped… we're being watched…"
The voice cuts through Lucy's sobs, cold and amused.
DISTORTED VOICE
"Get ready, girls. The real fun's about to begin. There's only one way out of here. Fight. Or die."
Without warning, the door at the far end of the room slams open completely, revealing a dark corridor beyond. The sound of chains rattling fills the space as mannequins—grotesque, blood-streaked figures—come into view, each holding a different weapon.
A machete, a chainsaw, a sledgehammer. All weapons designed for one thing—brutal, violent death.
The girls stare, their blood running cold, as the mannequins seem to mock them, daring them to step forward into the dark.
JESS
(whispering)
"Fuck. We need to get the fuck out of here."
But deep down, they all know the truth.
There's no way out. Not unless they play. And in this game… only one thing is certain.
Blood will be spilled.